Cat and Mouse
by Cielita
Summary: The CSI Las Vegas team is confronted with a multiple kidnapping where the victims are beginning to turn up dead. Can Gil and the team crack the case before another woman vanishes? Established GSR ship, possible Yo!Bling ship in future chapters.
1. Coffee and Crossword Puzzles

Chapter 1: Coffee and Crossword Puzzles

Gil Grissom could hear laughter as he approached the community break room at CSI headquarters. He carried the day's newspaper in his hand and he perused the headlines on the front page as he wound his way along the main corridor past the fingerprint, DNA, ballistics, and layout labs before finding himself subconsciously smiling at the scene he was walking into. The rest of his teammates on the graveyard shift were having a great time retelling the stories of some of their more amusing cases, taking every opportunity to rib Greg Sanders, their eccentric youngest friend. Greg turned shades of embarrassed pink and laughed along with them as they recalled walking into the lab to the sight of Greg wearing a latex glove on his head, goggles over his eyes and a standard white mask with a mouth full of fangs drawn on it. He had been jamming to a metal song on the stereo and imagining the instruments in front of him to be a drum set. Former dayshift supervisor Catherine Willows was laughing so hard tears fell from the corners of her eyes. Grissom poured himself a cup of coffee and absentmindedly continued to read the paper as he sat down in an empty seat beside Sara Sidle as if she had been saving it for him.

Until his arrival, Sara had been watching and listening to the conversation, laughing along with them. When Grissom sat down, Sara sat back and draped her right arm over the back of Grissom's chair and languidly leaned over and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, slowly becoming engrossed in the crossword puzzle she was solving over that shoulder.

"Twenty-six across, 'not mysterious'," Grissom murmured. "Apparent?" Sara shook her head slowly and replied, "Obvious." Grissom turned his head to smile at her in unhurried affection and lightly kissed her lips.

"Hye guys, what's up?" Captain Jim Brass called as he entered the room with a dossier in his hand and a smile on his face. The group greeted him as he walked to the side of the table closest to the window and presented his reason for coming: he had a job for them. Catherine's blonde hair fell over her shoulder and into her face as she took the folder and opened the cover to browse through the contents as Brass prepared to explain. Grissom allowed the newspaper to fall forward, revealing his quizzically raised brow and Sara sat up, leaning forward in interest to see what Catherine was looking at.

The victim was female, early thirties, attractive, and middle class Caucasian. At first glance, 32 year old Kelly Garfield was no different than the thousands of other women in Las Vegas, but Kelly is missing, lost in the shuffle of Sin City for the past two weeks.

"Get lost on the way to missing persons, Brass?" teased CSI Warrick Brown.

"I wish. We believe Kelly is the forth in a string of kidnappings that we've been monitoring. Each victim has vanished on the twentieth of the month and none of them appear to have much in common," Brass said.

"I still don't know what this case has to do with us," Greg added as he looked up at Brass from the other end of the table.

"I'm not done yet. Victim number one, Renee Dixon, has been missing since February 20th and she just turned up dead," said Brass. A tense silence hung in the air for the space of a few seconds before Grissom spoke. "Catherine, I'm making you the lead on this one."

"You got it, boss," Catherine replied, standing and finishing her soda before tossing the can in the recycle bin.

"Warrick, go with her," Grissom added.

"Roger," Warrick replied, getting up to follow Catherine. As the team dispersed, Grissom took the folder and headed for the layout room, where he made copies of the photos and information that they already had and organized it on the large corkboard in the room from left to right according to victim. As he finished the display, Grissom stood back and his mouth fell open in surprise: he was beginning to differ with Brass's assertion that these victims had little in common. Each missing woman was brown haired and brown eyed, single, attractive and within a ten year age bracket of 25 to 35 years of age. Grissom silently began to process this information as Brass entered the room and came to stand next to him.

"I thought you said that these victims didn't have anything in common?" Grissom said in disbelief.

"They don't really," Brass explained. "None of them knew each other or worked together. They weren't in the same profession. None of them were neighbors or even the same blood type."

"Did they all attend the same college or graduate from the same high school? Did they all use the same gas station or grocery store? Had they all used the same ATM recently? This kind of physical resemblance in the victims suggests that the suspect is pedantic, analytical, and probably stalked these women, studied them, before the actual abduction. Kidnappers usually derive pleasure or satisfaction from the power they hold over their victims. We're probably looking for a white male, mid to late thirties, strong enough build to be able to subdue a woman, but common enough where he wouldn't stand out in public," Grissom explained. After a moment he added, "We'll know more when Catherine and Warrick get back."

"I'm on it," Brass said softly. He nodded and then left the room. When Brass was out of sight, Grissom took a deep breath and placed his palms flat on the smooth work surface of the table. While the investigator in him was eager to begin solving this case, the man in him was growing more concerned about a particular brown-eyed brunette who figured very prominently in his thoughts as of late. As if she had heard her own name echoing in his mind, Sara Sidle was the next to join Grissom in the layout lab. Grissom sank into a chair and removed his glasses.

"How's it going?" Sara asked, looking at the corkboard and folding her arms across her chest.

:Not enough information to begin drawing workable conclusions," Grissom replied. Sara looked over the materials spread out over the table.

"Want me to start questioning the victims' families?" Sara offered.

"No," Grissom said more forcefully than he had intended. "No," he said a bit more gently. "Let Catherine and Warrick do it…thanks." Sara's stance relaxed and she seemed to intrinsically understand the fear that he was trying so hard to hide from her. She took three more steps and Grissom stood as she came to stand in front of him. Without a word, Sara lifted her hands and began to massage his temples. Grissom closed his eyes and relaxed under her ministrations, letting her sooth away the tension headache he was afflicted with. As the pain waned, Grissom took Sara's hands gently in his own and slowly pulled them down until she took the initiative to wind her arms around his torso and embraced him. Grissom wrapped his own arms around her in return and held her close. He rested his head on Sara's and took a deep breath.

"Stop worrying…I'm here—I'm safe—I'm not going anywhere, Gil," Sara murmured.

"I love you," Grissom whispered. Sara looked up, smiling, and stroked his beard affectionately.

"I know that. I love you, too," she replied. "Are you going to be all right?" Grissom nodded and Sara indulged Grissom one warm, soft kiss before she returned to her duties. Grissom replaced his glasses on his face and smiled softly. Suddenly, he was feeling much better.


	2. Finding Renee

Chapter 2: Finding Renee

When Catherine and Warrick arrived at the crime scene the late moonlight was streaming down on a broken window and making the shards of glass glitter in the darkness. The Crossroads was an out of the way but neatly kept bar with a fairly regular clientele. The owner, Peyton Sims, was present—and was a total wreck.

"Is there any way we could get rid of the media? It's bad enough I gotta replace a window and a pool table…with all this coverage my customers will never come back!" Sims cried when Catherine approached him. He was looking about in nervousness and wringing his hands.

"Catherine Willows, Las Vegas Crime Lab. We'll see what we can do about the cameras. In the mean time, do you mind if we ask you a few questions?" Catherine said.

"Sure," Sims said weakly.

"What time did you close up for the night?" Catherine began.

"One a.m. on the nose. My last customers left at about ten minutes to one," Sims replied.

"Did any of the patrons seem unusually agitated or nervous…anything out of the ordinary?" Catherine asked.

"No…nothing like that. My bar's a simple place, Ms. Willows; the majority of the customers are my regulars. There hasn't been a bar fight here in years," Sims explained.

"Where did you go after you closed up the bar for the night?" Catherine asked.

"At home with my wife, Clara. We're expecting a baby, you know. Three more months and I'm gonna be a daddy," Sims babbled nervously. Catherine smiled softly.

"Congratulations. That's all the questions I have for now, but we'll need you to be available to us if we need to know more. Do you mind if we take a look around?" Catherine replied.

"Of course, don't let me get in the way of your job," Sims replied. Catherine thanked him and picked up her field kit to follow Warrick into the dimly lit bar. As they entered, Warrick told her that an all night business owner had seen the broken window and called in the break-in. When the two investigators reached the back area of the bar where the pool tables were located, Dr. Robbins was already there.

"This is a real treat, Doc. What persuaded you to make a house call tonight?" Catherine teased. Dr. Albert Robbins leaned on his cane and smiled at her.

"Hey, Cath, Warrick. It's not very often that we have a victim turn up on a pool table. As a matter of fact, I don't think I've ever seen one. I couldn't just pass up an opportunity like that, now could I?" Robbins replied in turn.

"Was the body like this when you got here?" Warrick asked as he shined his flashlight on the body. She had been meticulously placed perfectly straight on the pool table, her arms arranged as if she were merely sleeping and a loud sound might wake her. Subconscious of this idea, the investigators lowered their voices.

"Yes, she was. I'll need you to hurry up and take pictures so that we can remove the body. Once I get it back to the morgue, I'll be able to tell you more about her," Robbins urged them.

"You got it, Doc," Warrick assured him, snapping pictures as he moved about the table. Catherine shook her head slowly in disbelief as she looked over the area again before beginning to sweep for trace evidence. The victim was lying on her back on the playing field of the pool table, her curly, medium length brown hair was nearly arranged and she was dressed in a soft white gown that fell to her ankles.

"There isn't much blood here…I'm finding glass fragments in small cuts on her hands and feet. She must have been the one who broke the window," Catherine mused as she collected several of the shards.

"Arranging a body shows one of two things," Warrick added. "Either the suspect genuinely cared about this victim, or he's compulsive."

"Either way, this doesn't look good for the other missing women," Catherine said.

"There's material under the fingernails. Our friend Renee put up a hell of a fight," Dr. Robbins added. Catherine walked slowly over closer to the broken window and took pictures of the shards and the remains of the window itself. Some of the jagged glass was stained with blood and Catherine swabbed several of them, carefully labeling them and placing them in her kit. Standing and turning around, Catherine scanned the bar itself. It was simple, but efficiently organized. Up above the bar was a small surveillance camera.

"Oh, bingo," Catherine muttered. She glanced back toward the pool table area and Warrick was dusting and collecting fingerprints while Dr. Robbins and his assistants removed the body. Catherine returned to Warrick and knelt to continue examining the area. Once the trace evidence, pictures, and documentation were done, Catherine secured a copy of the surveillance camera footage from Sims. He was all too happy to give Warrick and Catherine anything they needed to help resolve the matter quickly. He wanted to be able to clean up and re-open his bar as soon as possible.

"We'll have to see about having a talk with that good Samaritan who called in the broken window," Warrick said. Catherine agreed, but when they tracked down the first officer on the scene, she had another story.

"Lieutenant Diana Benson," she said as she shook Catherine and Warrick's hands.

"You were the first one on the scene?" Warrick asked.

"Yeah. An anonymous call came in about 3:17 about a broken window at a bar and I came to investigate," Benson replied.

"By yourself? That's pretty brave of you," Catherine observed. "No partner for you, huh?"

"His wife was coming in on a late flight tonight. I'm only on my own for a little while longer here until he gets back. You don't have to worry about me, Ms. Willows," Benson said with a smile.

"What was the state of the scene when you arrived?" Catherine asked.

"I didn't touch anything. I tried to side-step most of the broken glass and only shined my torch inside. When I saw the body, I immediately radioed for backup," Benson replied.

"Thank you, that's all for now," Catherine said, noting the new information on her clipboard. Benson returned to her own report and Warrick and Catherine packed up to return to headquarters.

On the way back, Catherine asked Warrick something that had been on her mind most of the night, "Did Grissom seem edgy to you before we left?"

"No more so than any other time we get a particularly violent or prolific case. Why do you ask?" Warrick replied, reclining against the seat and turning to look at her as she drove.

"I've known Grissom about as long as you have and I just wondered if this particular attitude struck you as more intense," Catherine said. Warrick shrugged.

"The only reason I can come up with for that was sitting next to him in the break room today," he replied.

"Sara? What about her?" Catherine asked.

"Oh, come on. You can't tell me you can't see it. Tell me you noticed and I'm not the only one," Warrick moaned. Catherine laughed and playfully demanded that he explain.

"You mean to tell me you can't see the way those two look at each other? They're practically attached at the hip and you didn't notice?" Warrick teased.

"Well, mister observant, we'll just see. I didn't think anyone could crack that wall of Grissom's, but we'll just have to examine the evidence and see what we come up with," Catherine replied.

"All right, now we're playin' ball," Warrick said. The two enjoyed another laugh and then changed the subject, chatting amiably as they returned to the lab.


	3. Autopsy, Trace and Video Enhancement

**Chapter 3: Autopsy, Trace and Video Enhancement**

Back at CSI Headquarters, Dr. Robbins took his time performing the autopsy. He knew that this death was going to be tricky when he noted the lack of an obvious cause of death. He was methodical, examining and weighing each organ, observing and noting physical anomalies, and documenting everything.

"What's up, Doc?" Catherine called as she walked into the morgue. Robbins looked up from the gurney and smiled.

"Hey, Catherine," he replied, straightening his posture.

"Got anything for me on our friend, Renee?" Catherine asked.

"Not much," Robbins said. "I discovered bruising on the shoulders and around the face that indicate a struggle. I sent the trace material beneath her fingernails to trace. The only flesh wounds I could find were consistent your description of the glass in the windows at the Crossroads. Petechial hemorrhaging and ligature marks around the neck suggest that the victim was strangled. I'd venture to say that that's our cause of death. Liver temperature indicates she wasn't dead long before we found her; two to three hours, max."

"So…she was running away from her captor?" Catherine began.

"Very likely barefoot by the condition of her soles," Dr. Robbins added.

"Why did she run to the bar if there were all-night establishments in that neighborhood that were still open? She chose to break a window and try to hide in a closed bar rather than run to where another person could have called the police and protected her…." Catherine mumbled. "Doesn't make sense."

"I know, but that's why I'm hoping you guys can find out more. I'll page you if I find out more on my end," Robbins replied.

"Sounds good," Catherine said. Her next stop was the video analysis lab and Archie Johnson's expertise.

Catherine found Archie perched on a stool in front of his computer in the video lab, his brow furrowed and his chin resting on his hand.

"Whatcha got for me, Archie?" Catherine called as she entered the room and walked through to join him at the computer.

"I'm afraid it's not much. I took a look at that surveillance footage from The Crossroads, but it only covers the bar and cash register without sweeping the whole room," he replied.

"Play it for me anyway. Maybe there's something there we can use," Catherine suggested. As the footage rolled, Catherine thought she saw something fly by in the shadows and cried, "Wait! Back it up!"

"What is it? Did you catch something?" Archie asked. He clicked a few times on his computer and brought the tape back to the beginning. He adjusted the speed to slow motion and pressed play again. This time Catherine was sure she saw two silhouettes reflected in the mirror set on the back of the bar.

"Can you isolate and enhance that?" Catherine said.

"I'll try, but no promises," Archie said, grimacing. He enlarged and then enhanced the image, but the only clear reflection was Renee's. The man that followed her appeared to be dark haired, but beyond that he was still a mystery. A bit dejected, Catherine left the video lab after thanking Archie for his help. She needed to stop in the break room for a moment. In the corridor, she passed Grissom.

"Any new breaks in that serial kidnapping case?" he asked her. Catherine rolled her eyes in response.

"Not much. Ask me that tomorrow," she quipped. Grissom smiled and nodded. He continued down the corridor toward his office but stopped when he heard a distinctly feminine shriek. He leaned back to see around the corner he had just turned and discovered Nick strolling down the corridor with Sara slung over his shoulder.

"Put me down!" she demanded.

"Come on, Sara, Catherine's busy and we need a female body double," Nick said.

"Use a dummy!" she retorted.

"Dummies don't fight back," Nick insisted. "Sanders and I need a big break in this case."

"I'm going to break your neck if you don't put me down!" she cried. Grissom raised an eyebrow and approached them to ask what was going on.

"Greg and I are working on that self-defense case and we need to recreate the conditions," Nick explained. "We need to borrow Sara."

Grissom got a small grin on his face. "What if I need Sara?"

"You can have her back in a little while," Nick grinned, applying a hard slap to Sara's upturned backside. She gasped and screeched as she pounded her fist into his readily available shoulder. He laughed as he winced and then continued down the corridor. As they went, Grissom followed for a few steps and showed Sara the notepad he was carrying. On it was the words, "Dinner at my house—my turn to cook."

Sara nodded silently and smiled a bit as Nick carried her out of sight.

Catherine walked into the break room and stood for a moment to absorb the quiet. She eased her hands through her hair and slowly massaged her scalp for a few seconds, blissfully unaware of the tantalizing shape her body made in this stretching pose. When this was finished, she relaxed her arms and then debated whether to pour a cup of coffee or indulge in another can of soda. This decision was more difficult than usual with the knowledge on her mind that the next part of the investigation was to question the victims' families and further extrapolate any clues from them. A hand on her shoulder startled her out of her thought process.

"You all right, Cath?" asked Warrick.

Yeah…yeah, I'm fine," Catherine replied, waving off his concern. His piercing brown eyes seemed to continue to question whether she really was all right while his hand lingered on her shoulder and then trailed slowly down her back. Catherine suppressed a shudder of excitement.

"Warrick…" she began, but he already knew what she was going to try to say.

"The divorce was final a long time ago…we made a clean break and moved on…" Warrick said softly. He caressed her arm with the back of his hand and Catherine's heartbeat rose as he swept her hair away from her neck and planted kisses from her spine to her left shoulder. Catherine allowed this, closing her eyes as she enjoyed his attention. She reached up to stroke his face as his hands wound around her waist, securing her against him. Catherine tipped her head backward against his shoulder and finally their lips met for the first time. Warrick's left hand tightened around Catherine's waist and he continued to kiss her as she turned in his arms to kiss him properly. Seconds later, both realized that they were still in the glass walled break room and arranged to meet up again in the locker room in five minutes. The two left the break room going different directions. Brass caught up with Warrick near the ballistics lab.

"I got the addresses you and Catherine need for the families of the victims. How's the evidence analysis coming?" Brass asked.

"Slow. We've got a lot of evidence but nothing to compare it to," Warrick replied. "This should help us with a lead. Thanks, Brass."

"Sure thing, Warrick," Brass said, turning to go.


End file.
